Breath of Life
by steepedinshadows419
Summary: 3x11 - As Lydia surfaces from the kiss that ended Stiles' panic attack, an explosion of unexpected feelings come with it. There is only way to determine if they're real or just from a brush with panic. One more kiss. Oneshot. Stiles/Lydia.
**A/N: A birthday present I wrote for a diehard stydia friend awhile back. Hope you enjoy it as much as she did.**

* * *

 _I think I'm having a panic attack._

…

Lydia had a lot of smarts, a lot of knowledge, and in the last year had had to endure a whole new world she had never imagined existed – the supernatural one of werewolves, kanima, and she suspected other unimaginable creatures as well.

But this one little nugget of information that had assisted her just now had been acted upon by sheer desperation because nothing else she could think of would work.

And it worked.

She was relieved but also shaking a little. These after effects, and the experience over all if she was being honest, came as a total shock to her. Her lips were still tingling from the feel of Stiles' lips. She was feeling things she hadn't felt with him before, or maybe that she wouldn't let herself feel. Because Stiles was Stiles; he wasn't _Stiles_.

He exhaled slowly, attempting to find words and failing. He swallowed and then realized his breathing had returned to normal, for the most part. The panic attack was gone.

"How'd you do that?"

"I, uh…" she began, "I read once that holding your breath could stop a panic attack…" she paused, almost asking him if that was her reason behind it. She had been so sure it was. She knew that it was, but she couldn't seem to tear her eyes away from him now; and not because she was concerned.

The moment suddenly felt very heavy and significant and she felt warm. She licked her lips to steady herself and buy some time.

"So…when I kissed you…you held your breath."

His gaze penetrated straight through her: curious, accepting, awed. She couldn't help but look straight at him. She couldn't move even if she wanted to. She was frozen to the spot, all her attention on Stiles and whatever was happening right now.

"I did?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "You did." Her voice barely came out as a whisper. It was as if her whole world had started spinning on a different axis. This wasn't something she would just be able to laugh off later. She knew it would mean something more to Stiles, and she was slowly realizing it might just mean more to her too.

It wasn't just a kiss.

He continued nodding, and she could have sworn he maybe was tearing up. His eyes looked so deep with emotions she couldn't even begin to describe. A crush was a crush but what she felt right now coming from him felt so much deeper than that.

"Thanks."

The moment was almost over, and she knew they would move on to solve life-saving problems, ones that went far beyond panic attacks and unexpected kisses. She felt an urgency now though to let it end. She didn't want to acknowledge anything going on in her own heart, even in the illogical dreamy state she was now in, _they_ were now in. But it might just help with her denial later, or the knowledge that would settle as truth in her heart, if she pushed this just a step further.

"Stiles?" she asked hesitantly, her voice still just as soft as before.

"Yeah?" he responded, voice just as eager and open and willing for anything she had to give him, accepting of everything, completely keeping her the axis on which his life spun, especially now.

"Could I…" she held her breath, her mind racing with the very demanding reminders of what the consequences of this could be. She pushed them aside, willing herself not to lose her nerve. "Could I do it again?"

His eyes searched hers, fathomless.

"Kiss you, I mean."

Awestruck, the whisper of "sure" was all that came out.

She shook off any further nerves that she knew she should not be feeling and inched a little closer to him. She didn't look him in the eyes but she could feel him watching her. When she finally lifted her head to lay her hands against his face, she knew she was drowning.

She met his eyes and everything else melted away. It was just them and the inevitability of it all seemed to suddenly be screaming at her. She leaned in, closed her eyes and kissed him.

The kiss was slow, as before, but every bit as sweetly intense. Stiles was reacting; he was responding. She could feel him move his lips against hers and she was suddenly on fire. He set his hands around her waist as she rose to her knees and he rose with her.

It had been an experiment, she told herself, but when they finally pulled away and she was the one with some heavy breathing, she knew it had been more of a cautious indulgence than anything else.

She swallowed and looked up at him, smiling hesitantly.

"You're a good kisser," she said, almost squeaking and hating herself for it. But he was staring at her with a care she could have sworn bordered on love that any self discrimination vanished. "Have you kissed many girls, Stiles?" she tried to ask playfully, but in the back of her head she could have sworn it came off with a hint of jealousy and she couldn't begin to imagine why.

"Just once," he said. For some reason that answer relieved her immensely. "And it wasn't-" he cleared his throat.

"Like this," she finished, eyes still locked on his.

"Yeah," he said. "Not like this."

Hesitantly, he reached out to tuck some strawberry blonde strands behind her ear, daring to brush his thumb against her cheek. Instinctively it seemed her face turned to rest in his palm and it felt as if everything was suddenly different. It was scary but in the best possible way.

"I'm glad you're okay, Stiles," she finally said, her eyes closed as she let him caress her face.

He laughed once, lightly, in disbelief of all of this but never wanting it to be over.

"Me too," he said, watching her and feeling more alive than he'd ever felt in his entire life.

This was the beginning of something that he wasn't ever going to let go.


End file.
